


Dark Side of the Morning

by Jaegerx7



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, can be read as gen or as Peter/Neal, set after s03e16 and before season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 01:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10687365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaegerx7/pseuds/Jaegerx7
Summary: No, I don't wanna know where you been or where you going, but I know I won't be home and you'll be on your own. I'll take with me the polaroids and memories, but you know I'm gonna leave behind the worst of us.





	Dark Side of the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> obviously inspired by Selena Gomez's It Ain't Me. Did it really quick, so any mistakes are mine. Whoops~

Neal is dreaming, he knows this, he knows because next to him stands Peter Burke, a sly smile pulling up at the corner of his mouth. His eyes dance with delight at something Neal has just said and he takes a sip out of the whiskey glass in his hand to prevent himself from showing Neal a full blown smile. He’s wearing a navy shirt with little white sailboats scattered across it, and it should look tacky but it fits the atmosphere perfectly. And it’s just so Peter that Neal can’t help but smile. He leans into the other’s warmth and taps their glasses together, before taking a drink of his own. He leans against the railing of the tower and points out a boat floating out in the ocean water. The moonlight spills across the waves like silk and casts a halo around the lone boat. With the orange glow of the lights of the city below them, it looks like something out of a paradise brochure. Peter catches that his attention is caught by the sight and leans in to whisper in his ear, despite them being alone on the terrace. His breath is warm against Neal’s neck and he sighs in contentment. Peter tells him he could paint the scene. They could hang it above the villa’s fireplace.

_—who’s gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning? —_

Peter is dreaming, he knows this, he knows because next to him sits Neal Caffrey, a gorgeous grin filling his face. Neal is amused by something he’s just said, and by the looks on the faces of Jones and Diana he should be rolling his eyes. He can’t react properly, too caught on the smile on Neal’s face, which fades from glee at his own joke to a warm affection aimed at Peter. He raises his eyebrows a sign that Peter should probably start talking again. He takes the cue and begins going over the particulars of the case, his attention split between his team and the endearing look of concentration on Neal’s face. As they walk out of the conference room Neal’s arm goes around his shoulder, and he leans into Peter’s personal space as if he’s got a secret to tell, even though no one is around to hear anyway. His eyes are bright and sparkling, like they do when he feels like he’s had a stroke of genius. Neal tells him he’s got an idea. They’ll bring this guy in and be back home for dinner.

_—who’s gonna rock you when the sun won’t let you sleep? —_

Neal wakes up to a light shake on his shoulder, his brain still slogging along slowly, his vision still blurry. There is a half full glass and an empty bottle of cheap whiskey on the table in front of him. “Peter?” he asks before he can stop himself. He turns and sees Mozzie, an empathetic look on his face, and he can’t stop himself before the tears come. Mozzie wraps his friend in a hug and a litany of apologies spill out of both their mouths. The villa Neal lives in is dark and the moonlight spills in like silk.

_—who’s waking up to drive you home when you’re drunk and all alone? —_

Peter wakes up to the hushed reassurances of El. She has her arms around him and has pulled his head into her chest and she strokes her hands through his hair. “Neal?” she asks softly and Peter can only respond by crying harder into her chest, his hands wrapping around her and balling into the back of her shirt. She shushes him and rocks him, and continues to whisper reassurances to him sweetly. “You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. I love you.” On repeat rain over him as he falls back into a dreamless slumber.

_—who’s gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning? —_

Neal wakes up again, this time with a headache. He searches for water before he makes his way to the shower and cleans the grime and dreams off of himself, scrubbing hard enough to turn his skin pink. He steps out of the shower, and into stylish clothes, making sure he looks as good as he knows he can. He checks in the mirror and tries to feel as suave as he looks. In the kitchen he finds Moz helping himself to breakfast. Moz asks if he’s alright. “What’s the point in regretting?” is his only response, and to Mozzie’s ears it rings melancholic.

_—it ain’t me—_

Peter wakes up again, this time feeling better rested. He places a kiss on El’s forehead as he gets up and slips into the shower and cleans off the sleepiness. He feels refreshed, relaxed. He picks out a suit and tie, and promptly gets dressed. As he straightens his tie in the mirror he feels like he’s wearing battle armor. He feels as if he’s ready to go to war. In the kitchen he finds El, making them breakfast. Elizabeth places a soft hand on his arm and asks if he’s feeling better. “Every day,” is the response he gives, and to Elizabeth’s ears it rings hopeful.   


End file.
